


... And In Health

by Severina



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Community: 25fluffyfics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-08
Updated: 2008-10-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:43:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Having a stable, comfortable home isn't a curse, Sunshine. It's a blessing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	... And In Health

**Author's Note:**

> Post Season Five. Sequel to "In Sickness..."  
> Written for LJ's 25FluffyFics Community.  
> Prompt 14: Home

The meal was fantastic, and Justin feels slightly tipsy on the half bottle of French wine he polished off during dinner. He doesn't usually get that wasted on wine, but he doesn't usually drink wine that costs upward of several hundred dollars a bottle, either. He's also not used to Brian being in such a good mood during the Christmas season -- usually he bitches about the extra workload and the commercialism and the treacly sentimentality, pretends that he doesn't give a shit, and then downplays everyone's reactions when he still manages to buy each one of them the perfect present. A surprise visit to New York during a time when airports are buzzing and airline seats are at a premium is unheard of.

He gazes out the rental car window and watches people hustle by on the street, all of them bundled into heavy winter coats and clutching brightly coloured bags. That would be him, he thinks, struggling through the snow to get to the subway, then crowded into the stifling cattle cars and jostled from stop to stop until he could finally alight in Queens and trudge his way another seven blocks to his tiny walk-up.

But not tonight. Tonight was dinner at Alain Ducasse at The Essex House, where Justin had taken one look around at the clientele and been thankful that Brian had brought along one of his presents and made him open it early -- the Prada suit looked amazing on him, and nothing else in his wardrobe would have suited the occasion.

He rests his head against the plush seat of the luxury car. Tonight was also going to be spent in Brian's hotel room, with huge king size bed and down-filled pillows and room service. He was okay with his little place in Queens, he really was, but his single bed and a dinner plate of cheese and crackers just couldn't compare with the amenities of a lavish hotel suite. And besides, he reminds himself, it's almost Christmas. He considers staying with Brian part of his present.

He realizes he's been daydreaming and sits up in his seat, looking around. The landscape is unfamiliar, and on the occasions when Brian books a room in the city instead of staying with him, it's always been at The Four Seasons. "Brian," he says, "I think you missed a turn."

"I don't think so."

Justin's eyes narrow. "Where are we going?"

"I have to make a stop."

"Oh," Justin says. He's sure that Brian's never mentioned anyone else that lives in the city. No old college roommates, no friends or colleagues from the advertising industry. In fact, Brian's coterie of companions seems to begin and end with Michael, Lindsay, Ted, and Emmett. He frowns. "Where?"

Brian whips the car into another lane, ignoring the blare of horns from the car behind him. He flicks his gaze toward Justin before turning his attention back to the road. "It'll only take about fifteen minutes."

Justin shifts uneasily in the seat. "You're not usually this enigmatic."

"I'm not?"

"No," Justin says flatly, "you're not. You're direct. More along the lines of 'Come here. Sit on my dick. Now.'"

Brian reaches across to cup Justin's cock playfully. "Now that's an idea."

"I'm not sure I like this mysterious shit. The last time you were like this…" Justin's eyes widen. "Please tell me you didn't buy me a house in New York!"

Brian rolls his eyes. "I didn't buy you a house in New York."

"Thank God," Justin sighs.

"Do you have any idea how much real estate costs in New York?" Brian asks. "No, Sunshine, there isn't a country manor at the end of this drive. I just have to meet a client."

"Here?"

"I _do_ have New York based clients, you know," Brian says. "And Los Angeles based. Houston…"

"I know."

"Denver," Brian continues. "Boston, Seattle--"

"I _know_."

"Since I was going to be here anyway, I told him I'd bring the contact by for him to sign," Brian explains. "He thinks I'm making the extra effort to come to him, which fosters good agency-client relations, and I save the cost of the round-trip ticket to Pittsburgh for his fat ass that would have gone on Kinnetik's tab."

"So that's why you came to New York two weeks before Christmas," Justin says. "I'm just an added perk."

"You're more than that," Brian says, and gives his dick another gentle squeeze.

When Brian pulls in to the long circular drive out front of one of Manhattan's exclusive high-rises, Justin lets out a low whistle. It's the type that several of his clients live in -- valet parking and a doorman and in-house security. The type of complex that goes by a single name… The Concord, or The Acadian. He's never actually been in one; never even been in the neighbourhood.

He gets out of the car and watches while Brian gathers up his briefcase before handing off the keys to the parking attendant, then says, "Your client must be loaded."

"All of Kinnetik's clients are loaded," Brian remarks casually as he leads the way into the building.

The wide banks of elevators gleam with brass and polished chrome. Brian heads unerringly to the last in the row, and they ride up in comfortable silence to the 32nd floor. The door to apartment 3202 opens just as they are getting off the elevator.

"Mr. Kinney." The tall impeccably dressed man steps toward them, holding out his hand. "Right on time."

"Calvin." Brian shakes the man's hand, then gestures to Justin. "My partner, Justin Taylor."

Introductions out of the way, Calvin indicates the open door with a sweep of his arm. "I trust that everything is satisfactory," he says. "If there are any problems, you know where to find me."

"Thank you, Calvin," Brian says.

With a nod in Justin's direction, the man walks briskly to the bank of elevators, and Justin finds Brian's hand under his elbow, leading him inside the apartment. "That's wasn't your client?" Justin murmurs.

"Not exactly."

"But what--" Justin stops when they've gone through the foyer and entered the apartment proper. The furnishings are sparse, but what there are of them are clearly quality pieces. The walls are bare. Floor to ceiling windows cover one entire side of the apartment, encompassing both living area and dining room. The view is breathtaking. He realizes his mouth is hanging open and abruptly closes it.

"Do you like it?" Brian asks.

"Are you kidding? It's gorgeous." Justin lets his fingers trail along the back of a chaise. "Who _is_ your client, Bill Gates?"

"Not exactly."

Justin stops moving around the room. "You keep saying that."

Brian sets his briefcase on the small teak table next to the chaise and flips it open. "Here's the thing," Brian says.

"Oh no."

"I didn't buy you a house in New York."

"Brian," Justin says softly.

Brian smiles. "I bought you a condo."

Justin blinks, once.

Brian pulls a pen from the briefcase, looks down at the papers in his hands. "I just need you to sign a few--"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Brian presses his lips together. "Well," he says, "physically, I only have the one ball, as you know. I'm narcissistic, hedonistic, and would probably be _technically_ classified as a nymphomaniac. I--"

"I'm not _kidding_." Justin shakes his head. Paces back in forth in front of Brian, who stands perfectly still. "I _mean_ it. What on earth would ever possess you to do something like this? WHAT?"

"I have a perfectly reasonable explanation," Brian says.

"Well, I would LOVE to hear it."

Brian nods. Sets his pen down on the table, his sheaf of papers on top of his briefcase. "Two months ago," he says, "you were sick."

Justin waits.

Brian smiles patiently.

Justin flings his arms wide. "Aaaand?"

Brian sighs. "Aaand I was stuck taking care of you all weekend while you sniffed and sneezed and coughed up a lung."

Justin rubs at the back of his neck. His head hurts. "Brian," he grits out, "what the FUCK does that have to do with this?"

"The seal is for shit on your windows and the place is always drafty," Brian says. "Your heater only works half the time and there are holes in your baseboards. I've seen mice in the hallway and who knows what kind of diseases the vermin are bringing in--"

"Brian," Justin says incredulously, "my apartment did not make me sick!"

"Yes, it did."

"I caught a cold! Everyone catches colds!"

"I don't," Brian says evenly. "I'm perfectly healthy."

Justin opens his mouth to respond, then closes it again. It's true. Brian has never had been sick in all the time he's known him. Hung over, sure, but never sick. Not a cold, or the flu, or a sore throat, or a stomach ache. Nothing. Maybe there was something to Brian's theory…

No. He shakes his head. "That's irrelevant. The fact remains that my apartment is perfectly--"

"It's a pit."

"I don't care--"

"This place has twenty four hour security--"

"I don't care."

"There's a workout room and an indoor pool--"

"Would you listen to me? I. Don't--"

"And look, Sunshine," Brian says, pointing at the wall, "no holes in the baseboards." He crosses the room and waves his hand in front of the bank of windows. "No drafts." He returns to the teak table and smiles winningly. The smile that has clinched multi-million dollar deals and once convinced Justin to say Yes to a marriage proposal. "This place," Brian finishes, "is fabulous."

"If it's so _fabulous_," Justin says sarcastically, folding his arms in front of his chest, "then _you_ live in it."

Brian presses his lips together. "I plan to."

"Wha-- what did you just say?"

Brian's tongue finds its way into his cheek, and then his smile gets wider. "Kinnetik just landed the Liberty Air account."

"What? Are you kidding?" Justin runs his hand through his hair. Things are just moving too fast. Way too fast. "You've been trying to steal that account away from Vangard for months!"

"Nineteen of them, to be exact," Brian says.

"Well, that's…I just…" Justin shakes his head. "Congratulations."

Brian nods. "The influx of capital from Liberty Air is just what Kinnetik needed to move forward. To move into a bigger market." Brian sweeps his arms wide. "New York."

"You're moving the company to New York?"

Brian huffs out a laugh. "No," he says. "We're not _that_ rich, Sunshine."

"I am so fucking confused," Justin mutters.

"Our offices will remain in Pittsburgh, and that's where I'll still be spending the majority of my time. Eventually, I'll be able to open a branch office in New York. For now, at the very least I need a permanent place to stay while I'm networking and building contacts here. And I want you to be a part of that." Brian shrugs. "I need you to be a part of that."

"Brian--"

"I know that you wanted to do this on your own," Brian says softly, "and I respect that. I also know that you're barely making ends meet."

"I still don't get it. How is increasing the amount of rent I'd need to pay each month helping me? Aside from the fact that the new condo wouldn't make me catch a cold, of course."

Brian blinks. "You've never paid rent while you've lived with me. Why would you start now?'

"Because… because this is _my_ life, now. For once, I'm not relying on my parents or my boyfriend--"

"Partner."

Justin's lips upturn in a small smile. "Or my partner," he amends. "_I'm_ taking care of me. For the first time."

"But aren't partners supposed to take care of each other?"

Justin eyes Brian guardedly. He knows a trap when he sees one. And somehow, he doesn't quite mind jumping in, head first . Brian has always been the logical one.

"Well?" Brian prompts with a grin.

"Yes."

"Aren't partners supposed to help each other?"

Justin's smile gets a little wider. "Yes."

"How does it go?" Brian cocks his head. "Let's see. Love, honour, and obey… in sickness and in health… mmmm… do you know the rest?"

Justin crosses the room to lay his hands on Brian's hips. "For richer and for poorer," he continues.

"I can't live without you," Brian says. "I'll stay in your little hovel if I have to, but I like this place a hell of a lot more. Having a stable, comfortable home isn't a curse, Sunshine. It's a blessing."

"Do you remember how it ends?" Justin murmurs.

And Brian smiles. "To love and to cherish. As long as we both shall live."


End file.
